Authors: Antonio Garrido
“In the preceding week they will be in the library all day, and after that, studying into the wee hours in their rooms.”
“And do you remember if, in my case, I was put with a roommate when I joined the academy?”
“Yes, of course you were. The same as any other student.”
“Which is to say, my roommate would be a reliable source of information as to whether I had left at any time leading up to or on the day of the crime?”
“In effect.”
“And, Master, would you mind relating the robbery that took place not long after the inspection of the sheriff’s corpse?”
“Robbery? Ah, yes, you mean the robbery of your report. A most disagreeable episode.” Ming now turned to address the emperor. “Cí’s report revealed that this sheriff had in fact been murdered. But the report was stolen by his roommate, presented as his own, and used to try and gain the place that had been offered at court for whoever solved the case.”
“And,” said Cí, “just one more thing: Do you happen to remember the name of my roommate?”
“Of course. Gray Fox.”
Gray Fox, crumpling his notes, let out a curse that couldn’t be heard over the clamor now filling the room. Feng, standing beside Gray Fox, looked unmoved. He passed the younger man a note and whispered something in his ear. Gray Fox quickly read the note and nodded, then stepped forward to ask permission to cross-examine the witness.
“Esteemed Master,” he said, once the noise in the room had died down and the emperor had given his consent to proceed. “Can you be totally sure that everything you’ve just said is the truth?”
“Of course!” said Ming, shocked.
“I see…All right, now would you mind telling me if you consider
yourself
to be an honorable person?”
“Of course.”
“Sincere? A person with integrity?”
“This is preposterous! Of course I am all of those things.”
“Not a man with vices?” asked Gray Fox.
Ming hung his head and didn’t reply.
“I’m sorry,” said Gray Fox, “did you not understand the question? Shall I ask again?”
“No,” said Ming in a small voice.
“No what? No, you’re not a man with vices, or no I don’t need to repeat the question?”
“I am not a man with vices!” Ming nearly shouted.
“Oh, really?” said Gray Fox. “So it would be incorrect to say that you have an all-consuming preference for men? It would be quite wrong to say that three years ago, a youth by the name of”—he glanced down at the note Feng had given him—“Liao-San reported you for making passes at him?”
“That was an abominable lie! Liao-San tried to blackmail me for a place at the academy, and when I refused—”
“But the two of you were found naked together.”
“Slander, and again I say, slander! It was a summer’s night, I happen to sleep without clothes, and that boy broke in looking to blackmail me.”
“Of course. But I also see in my notes that, two years ago, you were witnessed handing money to a well-known homosexual as the two of you entered a house of ill repute. And that led your own staff to recommend that you step down from your directorship.”
“Damn it! The man you are calling homosexual was my nephew, the place we were seen going into was his hostel, a perfectly respectable establishment, and, as for the money, his family had asked me to lend him some. All this was confirmed when the academy staff sought my dismissal.”
“Blackmail, slander, lies…” said Gray Fox, shaking his head. “Are you married, Ming?”
“You know the answer to that question.”
“Have you ever dated?”
Ming hung his head, his lips trembling.
“I am not a degenerate…I merely…”
“You merely find men attractive?”
“I never…”
“Let me try to understand,” said Gray Fox, coming closer. “So if it isn’t a vice to love a man, how would you define it? Love?”
“Yes, it is a form of love,” said Ming, defeated. “Is love a crime?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Gray Fox. “Love is unconditional. Love asks nothing in return. Right?”
“Yes, yes, that’s it,” said Ming, opening his tired eyes, his gaze far off, as if pleading for understanding.
“So you’d do anything for love?”
“Anything,” he said.
“Thank you, Professor Ming. That will be all.”
Ming, visibly shaken, nodded that he understood.
Ming looked broken, and Cí felt terrible for having put him through all this. Gray Fox was positively purring. Two sentries came forward to escort Ming back to the infirmary, but just then Gray Fox looked up as though he’d remembered something.
“Oh, one last question.” He paused, looking deep in Ming’s eyes. “Could you tell us honestly if you are in love with Cí?”
Ming turned to look sadly at Cí.
“Yes,” he answered.
If such a thing were possible, Gray Fox had just gone down in Cí’s opinion. Such low-down tactics. With no better argument to make, he’d fallen back on attacking Ming, playing into the disgust most people felt about homosexuality. Ming’s admission of his feelings for Cí had damaged his credibility rather than demonstrating his commitment to honesty.
Cí asked if he could cross-examine Xu.
“Majesty!” said Gray Fox. “The accused is trying to insult your intelligence! Xu’s testimony couldn’t be clearer: he saw Cí kill the sheriff, and that’s all there is to it.”
Ningzong seemed swayed by this, and Cí cursed at not having the chance to undermine Xu’s credibility. But he tried not to let it get to him.
“In that case, I would like the men who found the sheriff’s body to testify.”
It turned out that Gray Fox himself had planned to call the same two men. Since they were already present and there would be no delay, the emperor assented. The two men were led in and confirmed their identities, and Cí began.
“Your job consists of patrolling the canals, is that correct?”
The pair nodded.
“Would you mind describing precisely what this involves, where you go, the frequency of your rounds, and so on?”
The elder of the two men spoke. “We patrol daily, checking the canals’ cleanliness, the moorings, and the sluice gates. Our area is the southern part of the city, between the fish market, the rice market, and the city walls.”
“And how long have you been in this job?”
“Thirty years, me. Him, ten.”
“That’s a lot of combined experience. I’m sure that makes a man very conscientious in his work. Anyway, whereabouts exactly did you find Kao’s body?”
“I found him,” said the younger man. “He was floating facedown in the secondary canal, not far from the market.”
“On the south side of the city?”
“Of course. Like my colleague said, that’s our area.”
“And what direction does the current flow along the canals?”
“Northward, with the River Zhe.”
“So, in your opinions, and with your long years of experience in mind, would you say that a body thrown in the canal to the north could possibly drift against the current?”
“Impossible. Even if it got snagged on something and was carried along, the sluice gates would stop it from getting very far.”
“Impossible?” repeated the emperor.
The two men looked at each other.
“Absolutely, Majesty.”
Cí turned to the emperor.
“Majesty, everyone knows Ming Academy is in the far north of the city. Xu said I pushed Kao in the canal nearest to the academy. Don’t you think it might be worth finding out what might have compelled him to lie?
Gray Fox was ashen. Xu was brought back in—he cursed the whole room and kicked and struggled until a blow from a guard’s baton brought him to his knees in front of the emperor. He grumbled and spit on the floor, casting baleful glances at Cí all the while.
“When you’re ready,” said the official to Cí.
To everyone’s surprise, instead of facing Xu, Cí turned to Gray Fox.
“Do you remember the causes of the sheriff’s death? Since the report that gained you entry to the judiciary detailed them, I imagine they are imprinted on your brain.”
Gray Fox pursed his lips and pretended to consult his notes.
“I remember perfectly well,” he said sardonically.
“And?” Cí said, as if he didn’t know already.
“He died from a rod inserted through his ear and pushed into his brain.”
“A metal rod?”
“Yes,” bristled Gray Fox.
“Like this one?” Suddenly Cí leaped at the fortune-teller and fished out a long needle that was hidden in Xu’s robes. A hush fell across the High Tribune.
Again, the color drained from Gray Fox’s face. Cí showed the needle around and, in a fury, Gray Fox excused himself from the courtroom. Cí didn’t let this knock him off course. He proceeded to accuse the fortune-teller of the murder of Sheriff Kao.
“Xu wanted the reward Kao was offering for my capture. But Kao was a wary man and would have been unlikely to hand over any money until Xu handed me right to him. I don’t know whether Xu thought Kao was trying to trick him, or if perhaps the two of them argued, but the fact is, Xu killed Kao for the money, using the same murder weapon as he always uses.” At this, he held the metal needle up to the room once more.
“Lies!” yelled Xu, which won him another blow from the guard.
“Lies, you say?” said Cí, turning to address the fortune-teller. “Witnesses have confirmed that the corpse was found near the fish market, which happens to be a stone’s throw from the houseboat you live on. As for the reward money, I wouldn’t mind betting that if His Majesty’s men were to ask in the taverns and brothels in that same area, any number of people could confirm that poor, impoverished Xu was there throwing money around in the days following Kao’s death.”
Overcome, the fortune-teller couldn’t even stammer out a defense. The look he gave the emperor asked for pity, but Ningzong
was unaffected. He ordered that Xu be detained and adjourned the trial until after lunch.
When the trial resumed, Gray Fox was clearly intent on showing that he was still a worthy opponent. Feng stood alongside him, and the irony of his serene expression struck Cí even more strongly. When the emperor reentered the room, everyone bowed—everyone, that is, except for the woman who had also just entered the room. It was Blue Iris. She’d come.
Gray Fox asked permission to speak and stepped forward.
“Divine Sovereign: The fact that the despicable fortune-teller Xu tried to abuse our trust does nothing to exempt Cí of the crimes of which he is accused. On the contrary, that there is now only one murder charge against him, as I see it, clears the way for his guilt to be unveiled.” Gray Fox turned to face Cí with a wicked look in his eyes. “Clearly, the accused was hatching a diabolical plan to end Councilor Kan’s life. His idea was to dress the murder up as suicide, and he carried out the execrable plan with great meticulousness. This is the true face of Cí Song: friend to homosexuals, fugitive, murderer’s companion.”
With a discreet raising of his eyebrows, Ningzong motioned for the proceedings to continue. It was Cí’s turn to take the floor again.
“First, Your Majesty,” said Cí, coming forward and bowing, “I would like to repeat the fact that it wasn’t I who sought to work under Kan; it was under Your Highness’s orders that I joined the investigation. Now, I want to emphasize something that we see again and again in all the different legal handbooks, and that is the necessity of motive. Crimes require motives. Revenge, fits of rage, loathing, ambition—whatever it is, there has to be something that drives a man to kill.